


(Im)purity

by dea_liberty



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Overstimulation, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 19:13:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dea_liberty/pseuds/dea_liberty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being robbed of the win in the Skype Scavenger Hunt, Louis makes sure Harry can't claim the purity ring that was the prize. Getting to punish Harry for being a tease on national TV is just a bonus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Im)purity

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the Jimmy Kimmel Scavenger Hunt video where Harry takes his trousers off on national TV and lounges back in the couch without a care in the world. Meanwhile, on the other half of the screen, it looks like Louis' brain kind of short circuits when he realises that, yes, Harry is in fact sitting there in his underwear. And then, oh irony of ironies, Harry's team wins a purity ring for their efforts. It was just a great excuse to write porn. So, here is porn.
> 
> A huge thank you to Vae for handholding and betaing and all the good stuff. Love you, darling.

They’re still sniggering about it when the door slams open and Louis stalks into the room, Niall just behind him.

“We were robbed!” Niall is saying, and Harry can vaguely hear Zayn and Liam starting to argue, to taunt - to do something, but he’s not paying attention to them. He’s completely and utterly focused on Louis. He’s got one leg back in his jeans, other leg raised - but he can’t move. He can hardly breathe.

Louis’ eyes are dark and his expression almost burns. Harry’s mouth goes dry. 

“You little tease,” Louis says. He puts a hand on Harry’s shoulder and pushes him back onto the couch. Louis’ other hand slaps Harry’s thigh lightly, and Harry lifts his leg obediently, feeling the jeans sliding right back off again. He guesses Louis’ standing on them - guesses that’s how he can get them off Harry once more - but Harry’s more focused on Louis’ face, Louis’ eyes, Louis’ expression to care much about how he’s achieving anything. Harry just cares about the result. Distantly, he hears the door slam shut but he really doesn’t care much about that either; Louis’ watching him, looking at him in a way that has Harry trembling with anticipation.

“I won a purity ring,” Harry points out, already wrecked, anticipation coiling in his gut, making it hard to breathe. He wants to reach out, wants to rest his fingers on Louis’ hips and pull him down into his lap - but he knows he’s not allowed. Not when Louis’ in this kind of mood.

Louis slides one leg between Harry’s and shoves _up_ , grinding his knee right into Harry’s crotch - and whatever else Harry might have wanted to say gets stuck some where in his throat and comes out as a low moan. Louis leans down and presses his mouth to Harry’s ear. “So don’t come. Doesn’t mean I can’t get off, does it?” 

Harry whimpers. “Louis...”

Louis bites his ear and Harry rocks his hips, trying to get a little friction as opposed to just the hard, steady pressure of Louis’ knee against his crotch, and Louis pins his hip down with one hand. “Don’t come.” He pauses and then adds, “Until I say you can.”

There’s an expectant pause, and Harry quickly realises Louis is waiting for Harry to acknowledge it, and Harry nods quickly – once – and his breath goes out of him in a rush as Louis shifts to straddle him, replaces the knee with his hand, curling it around Harry’s cock through the material of his pants and - fuck - Harry can feel himself getting harder at the touch, knows his breathing is more erratic, can’t even focus on anything other than the warm weight of Louis in his lap and Louis’ hand on his cock. Louis fists his other hand in Harry’s hair and tips his head back, slides his mouth to _almost_ kiss him - just breath against his lips, barely there touch, even though Harry’s lips are parted, practically begging - needing - to be kissed and - 

Louis grins and bypasses his mouth altogether, uses the hand in Harry’s hair to tug his head back when Harry tries to chase after his lips, uses the same grip to tip Harry’s head back even more, expose his throat - and Harry knows exactly what Louis’ going to do. He feels a shiver go through him as Louis presses a deceptively soft kiss to his pulse point - before sinking his teeth in. Harry’s dick goes from hardening to _hard_ in a second, and Harry chokes out a whimper-sob-moan, hips bucking up even as Louis shifts his weight to keep him pinned down. Louis sucks on the mark - tongue and teeth and lips - and Harry’s panting, thrashing, pain-edged pleasure sending fire through his veins, every sense focused on this. Just this. Harry sobs again when Louis pulls back, and Harry opens his eyes (when had he closed them?) to see Louis surveying the mark with a satisfied smirk.

Or, well, surveying _him_ with a satisfied smirk. Judging by how fast Harry’s pulse is racing, how hard he’s breathing - and how much he just can’t focus on anything else except Louis right there in front of him, he can guess the kind of picture he makes right now. He sinks back into the couch a little more, trying to catch his breath as he watches Louis watching him, but he can barely think beyond the sharp, aching pain of the mark on his neck - and god, he wants Louis closer.

So much closer.

“Louis,” Harry says, and watches as Louis’ eyes darken, knows Louis loves it when his voice gets like this, low and breaking, hitching just on Louis’ name. “Louis, please.”

“Please what?” Louis demands though he’s already sliding out of Harry’s lap, fingers hooking Harry’s pants and dragging them down with him. Harry lifts his legs, slides them out of his underwear and, before he can put them down again, Louis’ hand is there, keeping his legs up, urging him to bend his knees, spread wider. “Please what?” Louis prompts, and Harry whimpers again.

“Need you,” he gets out, breathing quickening as he watches Louis sink to his knees on the floor, feels Louis’ hands sliding down his legs, touch electric against the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. Louis’ touch slides past his cock, further down, thumb catching on the skin just under Harry’s balls and - 

Keeps going until Louis fingers part his cheeks, blunt fingertips teasing the rim of his hole, pressing and catching, only slightly stretching and burning - never quite breaching - too much and _not enough_.

“What about your purity ring?” Louis asks, and Harry feels his breath against his skin, knows his hole flutters a little against Louis’ fingers, knows everything about him is just _begging_ for it. Tease and be teased in return.

Harry whines, low and needy, desperate for something _more_. “Oh god, fuck the stupid ring. I’m sorry I ever brought it up - I - _please_ , Lou, I need you - oh _god_.”

A shudder goes through his entire body as he feels Louis’ tongue slide across his hole, feels Louis part his cheeks a little more and lean in closer, tongue making another more deliberate swipe before pressing _in_. Warm, wet tongue and a finger that slides in beside it - shallow little thrusts to open him up - and Harry chokes on another moan, loses control of his limbs completely.

Louis’ hands are on his wrists, guiding his hands up to curl around his own thighs and, “Keep your legs spread, love.” Harry follows the instruction without question, curls his hands around his knees. He tilts his head down to look at Louis and feels his whole body jerk with the moan that leaves his lips at the sight.

Louis’ face is flushed, and it’s creeping down his throat as far as Harry can see anyway. He looks endlessly satisfied, soft little smirk on his face as he watches Harry through slightly lowered lashes, eyes dark. When he notices Harry watching him, his smirk widens and he licks his lips once and then, slowly, he leans down and disappears between Harry’s legs again. Harry _feels_ him then, feels Louis pointing his tongue and sliding it deeper into him, feels the way he shifts to get closer, feels the tongue slide back - and the sensation of the scrape of Louis’ teeth against his rim followed immediately by _sucking_ on his hole - and then the tongue is back, fucking into him - sensations all alternating, unpredictable and wonderful and absolutely overwhelming.

Harry’s fingers dig into his skin as he holds on, rocks as much as he can into each of Louis’ knowing touches, whines low in his throat, doesn’t even realise that he’s begging between the moans, an endless stream of “Louis - Lou - pleaseplease - oh god - Louis please”. 

He’s _wet_. He can feel Louis’ spit against his hole, feels it dripping down his crack, knows they’re making a fucking mess of the couch and they’re going to get hell for it later - but he can’t focus on anything other than the overwhelming sensation of _so much_ and _not enough_ \- and _moremoremoremoremore_. He’s practically sobbing and he’s so fucking hard it _hurts_ , it’s got to look obscene, and Louis is absolutely relentless in eating him out, each movement sending more and more pleasure spiraling, making him moan louder and louder until he’s pretty damn sure everyone in the studio can hear him - and he’s not slowing, showing no signs of letting up, and Harry _wants_.

“Lou - I - please - god, please,” he moans brokenly, hips twitching, trying to find some kind of friction. “I can’t - I need - “ Because he can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t feel anything but overwhelming pleasure and the need to _come_ \- and it’s right there, just on the edge, but he _can’t_. Louis _sucks_ hard on his hole and Harry almost screams - pleasure and frustration and _soclose_ \- before he pulls away, licks a line up past Harry’s balls, the whole way up the underside of his dick and murmurs, “Come, Harry,” before he wraps his lips around the head of Harry’s cock and - 

Harry comes, blindingly hard, choked and soundless.

Louis keeps sucking him, milks him dry, and doesn’t stop even when Harry sinks back into the couch, eyelids fluttering as they struggle to open. He’s oversensitive, each soft suck, each light flick of Louis’ tongue making his toes curl, almost too painful now - but he’s still holding weakly onto his legs even as his hips twitch, trying to get away from _more_ and _too much_ of Louis’ mouth still on him.

He gives a little pained whine. Louis slides his mouth off him with an obscene pop, and Harry watches through half-lidded eyes in fascination at the line of spit stretching from Louis’ lips to the tip of Harry’s cock - and fuck, his dick gives a valiant effort to twitch up at the sight alone. Louis shifts, moves to sit beside him on the couch, and Harry gives a little whine, wanting Louis closer than that, wants to get his hands on more skin, hates that Louis’ shifting _away_ \- but before he can get worked up over it, Louis’ laughing softly, tugging at his leg and - 

_Oh_. He finally lets go of the death grip he’s had on his thighs and goes with Louis’ pull, shifting around to straddle Louis’ lap instead, collapses forward so he can press his face into Louis’ neck and breathe him in. He registers Louis’ erection pressing against his stomach, and he starts rocking a little, about to reach down to undo Louis’ trousers when he feels the nudge of blunt fingers - two of them, wet now, coated in lube - nudging at his hole. His muscles flutter around the tip of Louis’ fingers as though they’re trying to draw the digits in, and Louis teases a little, chuckles softly and then slides them in, immediately crooking them. He finds that spot inside Harry with perfectly practised ease and, despite the fact that he’d just come not five minutes ago, Harry feels blood rushing down to his cock again.

There’s almost as much pain as pleasure, and Harry lets out a little whimper, body fighting between rocking into the touch and away from it. When Louis nudges that spot again though, pleasure wins out and Harry presses back into it, moaning low in his throat. Louis’ fingers curl in his hair, tugging his head back again and Harry’s not surprised when Louis lowers his head to suck at the mark he’d made earlier. He’s not surprised - but it doesn’t mean the sensations it evokes don’t overwhelm him. Combined with the way Louis is opening him up - pressing against his prostate on every pass, scissoring and fucking in, deeper each time - and how sensitive he already is, the sensation is enough to send Harry spiraling back into a shaking, whimpering mess in absolutely no time at all.

He clings to Louis, keening loudly when Louis screws his fingers up inside him, scrambles a little against the back of the couch when Louis _keeps screwing_ his fingers deeper, and Harry can barely keep his knees under him, tries anyway because he wants to _move_ , wants more than just Louis’ fingers - and as soon as that thought crosses his dazed mind, he can’t think of anything else.

“Lou,” he whines, rocking against him, his own erection now brushing against the material of Louis’ shirt, precome starting to make a hell of a mess - and Harry doesn’t care. “Lou - please, I need - I want - please. Please.” Grinding down into Louis’ lap over and over, rocking into each thrust of Louis’ fingers - harder and deeper and _not enough_. “Lou, _please_.” He grinds down harder like he can get Louis’ cock inside him with pure willpower alone and Louis lets out a breathless, _wrecked_ laugh, and drags his fingers out of Harry, grips his hips and lifts him _off_ \- and Harry whimpers because it’s the last thing he wants, and lets out a pleading, “Louis, _please_.”

“Trousers, babe,” Louis says by way of explanation, and when the meaning of that filters through the lust-haze, Harry drops his hands, trying - and failing - to help. Louis lets out another soft laugh, choked off when Harry’s hand brushes his dick, and slaps Harry’s hands away undoes his trousers himself. Within a breath, Harry’s hands go back to Louis’ cock, pulling it out and jacking him off in desperate, needy strokes. Louis curses, pushes his hand away again. Before Harry can protest, Louis’ gripping his hips and guiding him down, and Harry moans - low and happy and _wanting_ \- as he feels the head of Louis’ dick nudging at his hole. Then he lets gravity do the work, sinks down onto Louis’ cock, keeps going until he feels himself settle right against Louis’ hips, stretched and aching and so wonderfully _full_.

They’re both moaning, breathless and needy, broken and desperate, and Harry starts to move, rocks against him first before Louis urges him to get his knees under him a little more, urges him up and lets him sink back down, starts up a slow rhythm. It doesn’t last. Harry doesn’t have the coordination to keep going, thighs and lower back aching as he tries to keep moving, tries to find a rhythm that will satisfy them both, pleasure still laced with pain, feeling another orgasm starting to build, and he’s letting out tiny hitched sobs, and he can’t get his knees under him properly as the pressure builds and -

Louis shifts them, turns to press Harry down into the couch, hooking one of Harry’s legs over the back and lifting the other up as he fucks into him, control gone. Harry meets his eyes and his breath catches even as he reaches over his head to grip the arm of the couch, as his body rocks with each thrust. Louis never takes his eyes off Harry’s face. So much love, so much adoration and so utterly, devastatingly possessive.

Harry’s moaning again, loud and wanton, letting out a litany of “fuck, please, more, harder - oh god, right there - Louis, fuck, _please_ , harder” and Louis complies, fucks him hard and deep and thorough, changes the angle to hit his prostate over and over and over. The hand on his cock almost makes Harry scream - because he’s hard and he’s sensitive and he wants and he _needs_ but he’s not sure he _can_ \- but Louis twists the hand on his cock just right, hits that spot inside him again, and Harry throws his head back and keens.

He whimpers out, “Louis, Louis, Louis,” as Louis keeps that up, each movement perfect, knowing _exactly_ what Harry wants, what he needs, and he’s not going to last - not going to be able to hold back - feels himself on the edge again and -

“Harry, _come_.” And Harry does, comes with a low too-loud, shaking moan of Louis’ name. Louis fucks him through his orgasm, keeps fucking him until he’s whimpering and oversensitive, keeps fucking him until Harry opens his dazed eyes and locks them onto Louis’ - until Harry reaches a shaky, uncoordinated hand down to rest lightly at his opening, fingers brushing Louis’ cock with each thrust.

He keeps fucking Harry until Harry begs, “I want - Louis, _please_ ,” and grinds back against him. Until he whimpers, “please,” and “come on” and “make me yours”, voice soft and breaking, tripping over the words as he tries to get them out. Louis thrusts into him again - once, twice - and comes hard, and Harry moans with him as he feels warmth spreading inside him, feels Louis’ come filling him up, marking him from inside.

Harry gives him a blissful smile as Louis pulls out - but his happy murmur turns into a slightly alarmed catch of his breath as two of Louis’ fingers immediately replace his cock. He lets out a soft whimper, twisting his hips a little, trying to twist away. 

“Louis,” he says, voice utterly wrecked. “What - I - oh _god_.“ Louis fingers barely brush his prostate but Harry starts to tremble - and god, he can _hear_ the soft, wet sound of Louis’ fingers twisting inside him, feel Louis’ come sliding out of his arse as Louis presses his fingers in deeper, and Harry’s so sensitive that it _hurts_ when his cock twitches. “ _Lou_.”

Louis digs his fingers in deeper and Harry bites back the scream that threatens to come out, entire body jerking as Louis presses mercilessly on his prostate, and he’d be flailing, pulling away if it wasn’t for the knowing, insistent hand that keeps his hips where they are and Louis’ body pinning him down. “Lou - Lou, oh god, oh - “ Come-smeared fingers brush over his lips before Louis presses them into his mouth, and Harry meets his eyes as he obediently sucks on them, body feeling suddenly too empty without Louis’ fingers there. Too empty and getting emptier as Louis’ come leaks out, and Harry _whines_ , tensing his muscles as if he could keep it inside him.

Louis’ fingers leave his lips and press lightly against his hole again, teasing at the rim, and Harry’s torn between moaning, sinking back onto them and crying, already far too sensitive for any touch not to hurt. Louis dips his fingers in - presses them just past the rim, makes sure they catch on their way out, and his muscles _flutter_ \- and Louis pulls away from him so he can look down, so he can _watch_ as he does it again.

“Fuck,” Louis says, repeating the action, eyes wide and fascinated, his smile satisfied. “Look at you. So fucking dirty and still so fucking _hungry_ for it.” He does it again, and this time, Harry clenches his arse, wants to keep the fingers and the come and _Louis_ inside him for as long as possible, and lets out a soft, needy mewl. Louis pulls his fingers away and leans down to lick a slow line from his arse to the tip of his cock, and Harry _shudders_ , tensing before going boneless into the couch.

Louis shifts to cover him properly, lean in to press a kiss to the mark on his neck before finally catching Harry’s lips in a slow kiss. 

“Yours,” Harry says when Louis breaks the kiss, and Louis gives him a satisfied little smile.

“Of course you are,” he replies, tucking one of Harry’s stray curls back behind his ear. “Though the irony of getting a purity ring for teasing me on live TV is never going to get old.” Harry lets out a breathless laugh and Louis kisses him again. “Anyway, I was also making sure you wouldn’t be able to claim the prize you robbed us of,” Louis continues with a smirk, and Harry can’t do anything but laugh again, too sated, too fucked out for anything more. “No purity ring for you, and the best prize in the world for me.”

Harry just laughs again and pulls Louis into another kiss. He doesn’t argue with him despite the fact that Harry’s pretty sure he’s the one who won the biggest prize because maybe - just maybe - he’d been playing a different game from the start anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [dea](http://dea.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr if you'd like to drop by and say hi!


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